


The Morn In Russet Mantle Clad

by Katherine



Category: The Lion King (2019)
Genre: Gen, Mornings, Responsibility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 01:50:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21236156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine/pseuds/Katherine
Summary: A mother and her grown son watched the sunrise together, seeing everything the light touches. The land was far less green than it should be, drier, but the rain would fall again, and the herds would return.





	The Morn In Russet Mantle Clad

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Hamlet_
> 
> But look, the morn in russet mantle clad,  
Walks o’er the dew of yon high eastward hill.

A mother and her grown son watched the sunrise together, seeing everything the light touches. The land was far less green than it should be, drier, but the rain would fall again, and the herds would return.

"I haven't been up here for a very long time," Sarabi said, in the tone of one confiding a heavy truth. "Scar would not permit it. He tried to stop me from being queen, as I would not be ... his." There was a meaningful pause.

Touching his nose to Sarabi's thin side, Simba ached for her. That Sarabi, protector of the Pride Lands, had been barred in such a way. The queen who had chased off marauding hyenas forced to live beside them. She who had kept aware of all the kingdom, as thoroughly as Mufasa had, forced to take information in secret from a bird who had been exiled. Had Rafiki snuck to Pride Rock as well, through Scar's dark reign?

Haltingly, Simba told her about being met by Rafiki in the jungle, made to confront his flattened belief. Telling about the frantic running that ended up at his own reflection, when the words "he lives" gave him visions of Mufasa, Simba said, "In that moment I believed he was alive."

Sarabi gazed at this full-maned lion, grieving. "When I first saw you returned, so did I."

*

For the beginning of Simba's reign, his Sarabi continued to receive Zazu's reports of the kingdom. Simba told himself that those two were both used to that, and he was a very new king, and "I'm a figurehead." He said this last comfortably, sprawled beside Pride Rock in the lingering light of evening. It was rather less dramatic than watching the sunrise.

"You are still learning. Much has changed since you were a cub." His mother's chiding lick to his nose had not. She nuzzled his forehead, rubbing her cheek on his mane before she said firmly, "You'll take Zazu's morning report tomorrow."

Before Simba could say anything about how early mornings were, although that would at least be after sunrise, Sarabi added, "Nala will be up before you, scouting for the herds." That was a help to the plan. It was always difficult to drag himself away from Nala's embrace. Simba was quite certain that one of his kingly duties was to hurry and get an heir on his wife. Maybe they could snatch some privacy for that, after these new morning responsibilities.

This morning seeing the sunrise, tomorrow listening to the morning report... whatever would the day after bring to him. Simba might have liked being only a figurehead; a king who didn't have to do the work of ruling probably got to sleep in. But when Sarabi said again, "Tomorrow," she had a soft laugh in her voice, and that was worth an eternity of early wakings.


End file.
